Miscreation
by Ashabird
Summary: Buffy is part of a completely different prophecy in this AU fanfic. Due to a series of unfortunate events the slayer is taken from her mother at birth and raised among a South American tribe. This story is about her baptism into the world of the supernatural. Is for MATURE audiences.
1. Creation

Chapter1

"Almost there, come on one more big push!" with a final scream of agony Buffy Summers was born ,somewhat reluctantly, into the world. As she lay there cloaked in the blood of her mother, the sun began its first course around the sky, bathing the room in a gentle predawn light.  
Wailing and squirming as much as she was able, Buffy was tightly swathed in a baby blanket of rose coloured cotton and handed to her mother, pale and shaking from the ordeal. With a bright smile at the adoring mother and congratulations on her beautiful new daughter the nurse ,Kimberly it said on her name tag,began to erase evidence of the 6 hour trial from the room.  
Mopping blood and other unmentionable bodily fluids from the floor, nearly half an hour had passed before she finally began to make some headway into the stubborn seepage. "If only storks really did bring babies, at least they wouldn't leave such an awful mess" Kimberly thought distractedly, wiping the sweat from her eyes. The sheets were soon following the fate of the rest of the remains and it was not long before she returned to take the baby. Small for its age with golden blond hair and large,intelligent green eyes, Kimberly gently eased her away from the arms of the new mother, who was quickly tiring and had already nearly drifted off into sleep.  
Having removed the baby from Joyce's arms, Kimberly soothed the mewling infant so as not to disturb the mothers much needed rest and smiled at the infant, who it seemed still had a smudge of blood on it's forehead. Rubbing at the unusual mark with her thumb and frowning when it wouldn't come off, she peered at it more closely seeing it was in fact a birthmark, dark red in colour and exactly centred on on the baby's forehead. "Strange" Kimberly muttered scrutinizing the spot "It looks almost like... I must be hallucinating, but I could swear that it looks exactly like a sun." Wiping again at the baby's forehead to assure herself she wasn't falling into the same insanity that had plagued her family for generations, she stood in stunned recognition. Hastily wrapping the infant in additional layers of the pink swaddling cloth, Kimberly held the new born slayer tightly to her chest and hurriedly departed from the birthing room, leaving in her wake a slumbering Joyce summers with empty arms.

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	2. The beginning

**chapter 2**

"Hurry,hurry,hurry" Kimberly mumbled under her breath as she pulled out from the hospital of Sunnydale. Steering with one arm and holding the newly kidnapped baby against her chest with the other, the sharp accusation of squealing brakes accompanied her escape. Vampires had spies everywhere. Most were largely harmless, preferring to skulk in alleyways, fighting over territory like dogs over raw bones. Every once in a while however a wolf was borne and once they had something within their sights no man, machine or magic could keep them from their prey. These were the ones she would have to beware of if she were going to make it to the watcher's headquarters. Already she could sense they knew something was amiss. Whatever had happened, perhaps they had an oracle in their employ, she was going to have to hurry. Tapping into the powers of her witch heritage, she looked ahead to the council headquarters with her mind's eye and found it surrounded. Grimacing her heart sunk to her stomach. She would have to try and make it to the closest other headquarters which was somewhere in the wilds of South America. At least then she would have the chance to prepare some defensive and evasive magicks on the plane and formulate a plan. Turning off of the highway she jumped out of her car, abandoning it in front of the airport.

Rushing into the sterile, uninviting building she bought the last ticket of an immediate flight to Brazil. With seconds to spare until departure and stopping only to grab some supplies for Buffy, Kimberly scrambled onto the plane and soon found herself safely in the air, away from the crowd of pissed off vamps occupying the tarmac below. She allowed herself to relax. They would have only minutes until dawn broke the horizon and fried them to a crisp, they didn't have enough time enough to catch another flight, but once her plane touched down all bets would be off. Throughout the many hours of transport Kimberly chanted spells, wove shields of protection around both her and the child and mixed a variety of simple potions from the herbs in her purse. Most of the other occupants of the plane were desperately trying to pretend they weren't going to be stuck on a plane for hours with whom they assumed was a madwoman, mixing toxins and chanting curses under her breath. A few though were looking at Buffy. Lost in the oblivion only sleep can bring, strangers stared at her pityingly, assuming that Kimberly was her mother. For the first time, Kimberly spared a thought for Buffy's mother and found she felt deep regret for her loss. " It was necessary " Kimberly repeated, trying to convince herself it was true. This was so much bigger that any of them, they couldn't risk having the babe taken by those who would use her powers for their own ends. Gazing at the sleeping child contemplatively, the prophecy that had heralded this day and the times that would follow, came to mind:

A child born entwined with the fate of the worlds  
Bright orb in blood marked upon her brow  
She is pure among the dark  
And she is tainted among the godly  
Yet the stars themselves tremble before her power  
Men and monster of every faith will come forth  
Seeking possession of the sun child and her blessing  
Gifted beyond every imagining  
One will reign

Shaking herself out of her troubled thoughts Kimberly fastened her seatbelt as the plane lowered itself to the sticky tar of the pavement. Immediately seeing a group of vampires waiting for her outside the gate Kimberly cast a simple confusion spell, sprinting through the airport as vampires stumbled into each other dizzily. Running out into the South American heat without any further complications, Kimberly roughly pulled a protesting cabbie from his taxi and tore away. Knowing the watcher headquarters here would not have fallen, having many more warriors than the headquarters in North America, she headed in their direction. Optimistic about her chances of making it, Kimberly cooed at the infant, turning onto an infrequently used path that would lead them deep into the wilderness. Hearing their pursuers gaining behind her, Kimberly gritted her teeth, hands clenched white on the steering wheel and stomped on the gas. Twisting and turning through the winding roads of the forested area, she would have to travel a great deal farther to reach the watchers headquarters. Seeing dark all terrain vehicles emblazoned with the emblem of the dark covens swiftly gaining behind her, Kimberly prayed for a miracle but nevertheless it was a mere half an hour later that the car died, puttering and empty of fuel. Knowing she had no time to lose and hearing her persecutors only a short while back, Kimberly gathered Buffy in her arms and dove into the underbrush of the Amazon jungle. Sprinting through the dense plant life, it was only a few minutes later as she ran gasping between the thickly clustered trees, that she heard voices and rustling branches behind her. Bleeding from several deep scratches, faint from blood loss and having exhausted all of her evasive spells, Kimberly knew that there was only one option left to her. Setting the wailing Buffy down under a thick curtain of jungle brush and clinging vines, she smiled sweetly down at the newborn despite her grievous injuries "Quiet now little one, I'll lead them away. They'll never find you what with all of the spells I've cast to protect you, and I promise I'll be back soon." Tears stinging her eyes she dashed through the forest putting as much distance between herself and where Buffy lay hidden as her injuries would allow.

Knowing she would die that very night and vowing to deny them their prize, Kimberly met her end that night. Shrill screams and moans. Skin pounding against skin. The sounds lasted through all the hours of the night. When she finally died Kimberly was unrecognizable. Ripped and spattered with blood and piss she in no way resembled the beautiful dark skinned woman she had been. Silence echoed above the trees. This was the very first lullaby of Buffy would ever hear. Heated instruments, burning flesh, a woman shrieking, begging for mercy and finding none. This was what Buffy listened to as she lay beneath the thick jungle growth, gradually ebbing into slumber. And though she would never remember this day, the sound would stay with her always.

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	3. The bones of a child

**Chapter 3**

Two days later...

Anya stumbled through the jungle exhausted both physically,mentally and emotionally. It was only a month ago that she had been wandering about the exact same place, not one twig breaking beneath her feet, she was silent as a panther, though glowing and large from pregnancy. If only Xander could see her now. She was pale and sickly, dark circles beneath her eyes, her fingernails were ragged and torn bloody from clawing at her own skin and her beautiful long hair, that Xander had so often stroked and admired, was dull, hanging in clumps from her scalp. After he had died trying to save their tribal land from loggers, Anya had gone more than a little mad. The only thing that had kept her failing completely was the baby. Now even that last little hope, the last piece of her lover, husband and friend was gone, leaving her holding nothing but a corpse, a little girl whose last breath had been taken while she was still in her mothers belly. There was no point in going on when everyone she had ever loved was gone. Who would need her, love her now? She could only be a burden on the tribe. wasting away her days, distraught and perhaps insane in the company of the other widows.  
Hearing a whisper of sound Anya came to a halt, cocking her head to the side, trying to catch the noise should it again sound. Fortunately it did, and to her shock it sounded like a child. Curious for the first time in weeks, Anya followed the noise to a patch of thick undergrowth. Moving cautiously should she come face to face with some kind of unknown danger, she parted the thick foliage to reveal the most beautiful child she had ever seen. Swaddled in a dirty pink cloth, she was a tiny little thing with golden skin and tawny hair with eyes the flawless colour of emerald. Despite however her small stature you could immediately see the strength and will to live shining through her eyes, still yet too big for her face. "She is a survivor this one... this... Buffy" Anya mused seeing the hospital band that identified her on her ankle. Before exploring the ramifications of what she was about to do, Anya exchanged the two infants, one lying dead on the forest floor and one very much alive, and began the long walk back to her village. This was the answer to her prayers, someone for her to love, to nurture, a reason to live on.

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	4. New world

Chapter 4

"Fight,fight,fight,fight" chanted the circle of boys, aged 12 to 18, no longer children but not yet men, their eyes intent on the scene within the confines of the ring. "Fight,fight,fight,fight" still chanting pausing only to cheer for a particularly clever move or wince at a particularly painful bruise. Within the group two adolescents were fighting quarter staffs in hand. One, just having budded into manhood, lanky limbs now transformed into hard muscle, wasn't an opponent you wanted to underestimate. The other was a girl. Only 5 foot 2 and considered to be somewhat petite, she was a little, almost tiny, thing. Exquisitely striking with willowy golden toned limbs, long,thick honey golden hair and a temptingly curvaceous body, she inspired a need to protect, to hide her away from the world and keep her from harm. If a stranger were to gaze into the fight taking place right in the midst of their village, they would think the people savages, slow-witted and cruel. If they stayed a little longer they would see that same delicate little girl not only knock a man three times her size to the ground but also manage to pin him using only her own strength. The younger boys cheering and the older ones looking her up and down appreciatively, she plants a foot on the defeated near-adolescent's chest, grinning widely and raising her arms, unknowingly giving the victim a view up her indecently short skirt and him taking full advantage, grinning for a slightly different reason. Helping the boy up and teasing him about his performance one could immediately see that she was different from the other women. Learning to do household chores and gather harvest from the jungle, Buffy was the only girl in the village who was training to be a hunter. Not nearly as docile and tame as the others her age, there was a wild, untamed air about her. It was because of this, her perfect grace, golden skin and green eyes flashing with temper, that the village had very appropriately nicknamed her onça meaning leopard in the language of their village. Able to take down warriors trained twice as long as she, still it had been difficult, but Buffy had finally won the respect of the village both as a hunter and a warrior. When Anya had first brought her to the village the elders had been furious with her for bringing in a strange child , an ill omen, marked by a sun shaped blemish on her forehead, the colour of drying blood. Against all odds, and the superstition which ran rampant throughout the village, Anya had gotten to keep Buffy and for her decision was made outcast. After 17 long years of proving the village wrong and satisfying the doubts of even the most superstitious of her people, not only were finally beginning to accept her mother back into the community, but rather than as an omen, Buffy's birthmark was more widely accepted as a strange mark, one that lead a sort of savage edge to her beauty, but a birthmark nonetheless.  
Tired from a full day of hunting and rough housing with her friends, Buffy slung a game bag full of boar and jungle fowl over her shoulder and bid her companions farewell. Turning to go back to her home, the the magnetic attraction of the crowds eyes to her nicely rounded bottom was missed. Covered by a revealing skirt which she had sewn herself from various animal hides, beads and cloths, this gave her more freedom of movement than the typically long skirts of the other girls which would prove cumbersome in the jungle. The only problem being that as convenient as it was for her, it had proved to be equally distracting for the boys, especially so when she bent over to track the preys movements, which she often did.  
Walking through her village, Buffy ducked into the home she shared with her mother, threw her game bag onto the table and leaned to rest against the wall as she was greeted by Anya with a multitude of hugs and kisses. "How was the hunt?" Anya asked, concentrating for a moment longer on the stew she was preparing for their dinner before giving Buffy her full attention "It was good. I took down a boar and traded pieces of it for some wild chickens" "Thats wonderful Onça" Anya replied smiling deeply in the utterly protective way she had since Buffy was a child. "Are you going out on the supply run tomorrow?" Buffy nodded. Ever since she had been a child, once a month a group of hunters would travel through the jungle to the nearest town, trading goods for whatever the village needed at the time. Since Buffy had turned 17 a short while ago, she was finally old enough to go on one of the runs herself and was excited to see the world beyond her village, even if it were only such a small piece.  
After a large and very filling dinner, full of excited ramblings and bright eyed curiosity, Buffy packed the weapons she would be needing for tomorrow, including her bone handled dagger an ornately carved set of bow and arrows and whatever else she could carry although she knew she would not need it. Fidgeting and trying to relax under the events of the day , Buffy finally slipped into slumber, dreaming of the whole new world that was suddenly within her reach.

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	5. Rue the day

**Chapter 5**

As the light of dawn slowly started to drip across the sky and the very first of the songbirds began to trill, Buffy blinked into awareness. Grinning excitedly, she dressed into the revealing skirt which allowed her freedom and one of the small beaded tops she preferred, foregoing shoes in favour of bare feet as usual. Quietly gathering her things and stopping only to grab a few cuts of dried jerky and fruit, she set out to meet the others on the most western side of the village.  
Rushing hurriedly through the small wooden huts and cabin-like structures that made up their small tribe, Buffy finally made it to the designated meeting point, the last it seemed to arrive. "Did we interrupt your beauty sleep princess?" Riley teased, nudging her playfully as the other men grinned at their relentless banter. "Never Riley, you of all people should know I'm practically nocturnal" Buffy replied unaware of the eyes glued to her swinging hips as they began the long journey through the jungle. She was referring to her and Riley's constant battle of oneupmanship . The contest had started long before this day, when they were children and Riley had discovered that no matter how much training he got and how much bigger than Buffy he would grow he would never win physically against her. The rule had held true to this day, but Buffy still sometimes thought she could see the festering remains of resentment and badly stung pride in his eyes. Finally making enough headway into the forest, they came across a path, well beaten into the greenery that would lead them to the small town of Cleveland. As they continued on their trek through the thick brush, Buffy watched Riley slide on a smooth mask of innocence, though it was frayed at the edges and knew that he would be already planning his next attempt. She couldn't wait.

1 week later

Starving, exhausted and weighed down with heaviness of the supplies on their backs, the group of a near dozen men stopped to rest under a familiar grove of trees they recognized as being only short distance from the village. Knowing that her companions were too depleted to ever consider sparking a fire, Buffy, who's energy hadn't been diminished in the least, rose from her resting place on a conveniently placed log and began to gather dead leaves and branches. 5 minutes later, among the kindling a small flame began to rise, warming the chilled evening air that sank into their weary bones. Giving Buffy grateful looks they halted their progress until finally half an hour later, they once again began to stalk through the trees in search of their waiting families. A scant 10 minutes later the eldest among them called again for another stop, this time not to rest. Confusedly looking around, an unmistakable burnt smell drifting through the foliage was soon discerned. Normally this would be nothing to worry about if not for the the unnatural silence threatening to consume them as they approached their home. Taking care to snap no branches or twigs, they came to the clearing in which the village had resided, standing stunned and speechless as they came face to face with the smoking ruin. Refusing to believe that this horrid ghost town could be the bright shining place that they remembered, they walked dazedly through the remain of their lives, now dead in the rubble under their feet. Finally regaining her senses, Buffy escaped, separating from her friends who now huddled, weeping brokenly together and staring into space with vacant eyes, to a place she knew well. A place that had brought her such happiness and such joy as a child ,that each day she had spent laughing gleefully, dashing between the tents and dancing throughout the tall waving flowers and grasses. They had called her sunshine then and smiled fondly at her as she ambled about the jungle on her adventures. Finally she arrives at her childhood home. That it was standing even still, strong and unbroken where the rest of the village had become a nest of shredded ashes, gave her hope. Ducking below the opening of the door into the room that Buffy and her mother had shared for the past 17 years, she gasped.  
Blood splattered all over the walls... her mother... Anya, limbs in disarray, neck at an impossible angle... screaming. Was she screaming? It was possible but somehow she didn't think it was her. Knees buckling under her weight she slid to the dirt floor of their home and stared disbelievingly at the broken body and dull marble eyes of this thing that had used to be her mother. Dragging the body outside her old home, Buffy began to dig a grave in the hard earth that underlined her mothers cabin. By the time darkness was on the horizon, Anya's body was resting in a shallow grave and Buffy's hands were raw and bleeding. After an impossibly long time of staring at the gaping hole that had used to be her life, she rose, silently from the earth, careful not to disturb the tableau of death and chaos, imprinted on her fragile mind and followed the trail of terror.

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	6. Salt the earth

**Chapter 6**

Tracking the remaining villagers, Buffy came to the centre of the village, where untypical for this time of the day there was no gathered circle of friends and family, no open fire or laughter of children scampering around the flames. Rather than any familiar scene of comfort or mourning she stood there frozen as the last of the screaming abruptly stopped. Slathered across the clumping piles of ashes were various dark fluids and mutilated remains, the very last of her past, destroyed. Rooted to the earth she stood unable to move as the very things that she never believed in, never even contemplated as a possible existence revealed itself to her. In front of Buffy were creatures of myth and legend, monsters that only existed in campfires and the farthest reaches of a mans mind. Werewolves, her brain supplied. It was only when ears pricked and the group of beastly men turned towards her when she realized she had said it out loud. "Well, well what do we have here?" The largest of the 3 said in a cruel, mocking tone. Slowly approaching Buffy she was sure just to heighten her fear, he smiled a wide toothy grin. " It seems we've missed a little mouse. Been hiding in the bushes have we?" Unflinching and numb after the horrors of the day Buffy replied truthfully " no, I was burying my mother. You killed her." Taken aback by the candour of Buffy's answer the werewolves waited seemingly confused, for rage or tears, or really any sort of emotion but the truth of the matter was that Buffy was numb. Any anger had she felt over the genocide of her village was buried now with her mother. Using their silence as an opportunity to study them further, Buffy looked over her opponents. Standing at 6 feet in all of their wolfly glory , they were an artful mixture of man and beast. Covered by thick pelts and sporting the sharp fangs and scythe like claws of their namesake, They lacked tails and seemed to possess a sort of half muzzle that Buffy supposed made it difficult to talk as their voices were somewhat slurred. Obviously, she observed, they were more than human strong, what with the thick slabs of muscle on every inch of their bodies and having destroyed her entire village in the week she'd been away. Done with their own study of her and with a seeming agreement on what should be done, despite that there had been no vocal or physical cues, the wolfmen surrounded her on all sides. Unable to help but notice how happy certain parts of their anatomy were to meet her, Buffy knew with absolute certainty that death would be infinitely better than what they had in store for her. Drawing her dagger with a loud cry she rolled over the shoulder of one of the werewolves, slashing through the spine even before he could react. For a stunned second everyone stood frozen, each for a different reason. The werewolves because a relatively harmless looking and petite girl had killed one of their own and Buffy because she had never decapitated a person before and was more than a little surprised at how easy it had been. Advancing more cautiously the remaining two members of the pack that were left lunged at her from opposite sides. Throwing a punch at one side that was accompanied by a sickening snap and a whimper, Buffy drove her dagger into the gut of the second creature. Cleaving though the flesh from above the crotch to her attacker's throat, the monster could only gurgle pathetically as the life bled out of him. Turning back, expecting the last of the trio to be undertaking the task of her dismemberment himself, she was nonetheless unsurprised when she caught only a flash of movement as he bolted into the coverage, she supposed back the way they'd come. Shunning any repose from her exhaustion in case more of the vicious creatures would find their way to what Buffy knew could no longer be her home, she began to gather what she would need to survive on her own. " And what she would need to destroy any more of the dreadful creatures should they have entered her jungle" she thought adrenaline leaving her body in lazy coils. After sometime of pillaging supplies from the homes of her family and friends Buffy soon thought she had all she would need to begin life on her own. Armed with what should be a long lasting supply of non-perishable food, a bedroll , every manner of weapon she could find and various other tools and necessities, she shed her past onto the forest floor and strode out into the night air, blood blackening on her skin.

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	7. First blood

**Chapter 6.5**

_Several days later..._

Thomas stood pale and shaking before the door of intricately carved dark wood, near lifelike with artfully designed scenes of wolves scrolled into the material."Damn" He hissed hysteria infecting his voice. He was due to meet the Packmaster in only a few minutes and thoughts were jumbled in his head,tongue tied and he was sweating like a mule. Breathing deeply he managed to inflict some degree of calm upon himself before the grand double doors were flung open. Led into the large hall containing the wylven court, behind him an unknown wolf announced in a loud bellow as Thomas flinched " Thomas of Bloodrock clan seeking audience with the Packmaster!" Murmuring of what dire news he was to bring that the council would allow a common wolf to interrupt a gathering of the wylven nobility, a path was cleared through the ballroom. Approaching the dark obsidian jewelled throne which dominated the room Thomas gasped at his first look at the man who ruled over the wylven packs of South America. Lord Calhoun d'Jarvis was an ultimately ideal specimen of manhood. With dark good looks and a lean build topping at 6'8, he radiated menace even while motionless. Leaning on the arm of his seat, tanned skin contrasting against the ebony of his throne, Thomas could feel those dark, nearly pitch black eyes accessing his worth. "Speak" The order echoed throughout the confines of the chamber. Rushing to do as he was bid Thomas stumbled painfully over his explanation. " M-milord, I am p-part of the 71st squadron of your contingent, or r-rather I was... I a-and my company of two others tracked d-down the turncoats as per your order and as t-they had i-integrated into a tribe of humans n-native to the area killed them all in case they were to have s-spawned a child upon any of the females." This was a common practice and the king of the South American packs nodded in acknowledgement of their logic in eliminating any future threats to his reign. " Not long after we had killed the renegades, their families and the rest of the village a group of the creatures returned from their scavenging. Naturally we disposed of them also, but there had been one left who seeing us kill the remainder of her tribe, somehow managed to slaughter both of my team members. I only just escaped." "Her?" The king asked with a gracefully arched eyebrow, disgust evident in his voice. " w-well yes Milord..a girl" Thomas stammered face burning in humiliation. "Describe her." "Well milord, she was a little thing, hardly even came up to my chest..." Thomas construed, speeding his explanation as the king gestured a forwards motion. "She had blond hair, eyes were bright green and her skin was tanned, much like yours Milord, but it had a gold cast to it..." Thomas paused visualizing her in his mind " I would have placed her at anywhere from 16-19 years of age Milord and she had a birthmark on her forehead." " A birthmark?" The king interrogated, his concern over a child with the apparent ability to singlehandedly massacre two wylven foot soldiers growing. " "Yes Milord" Thomas replied growing comfortable with the realization that no harm would come to him. " Right in the middle of her forehead, dark red and shaped like a star or sun or some such thing." If Thomas had not been watching the king as carefully as he was, he was sure that he would not have seen the king tense " A sun?" " Most probably Milord." The king sat for a moment brooding, fingers tapping against the dark arms of his seat. " You have pleased me tonight and will receive due compensation for your actions." Thomas, delighted with this unforeseen turn of events failed to notice the wolf who had announced his entry silently approach him from behind. "Oh thank you milord, I..." Thomas was abruptly cut off as the wolf drew his dagger and slit Thomas's throat from behind. Gurgling the now dead informer collapsed to the black marbled floor of the ballroom, blood quickly spreading, puddling across the ground to come to a rest at the kings feet. Smiling down at his faithful servant the Packmaster rose withdrawing from the ballroom in favour of his own quarters. The prophecy was at hand.

Unknown to The Lord of the South American wylven, he was not the only one there to understand the ramifications of the matter. Should the foot soldiers tale have been a true one, there was the possibility that the power structure of the entire world might change overnight. When the gathering finally came to an end hours later not all were as eager to retire to their beds as others. More than a few footsteps echoed throughout the darkest passageways of the lords residence that night, eager to report the startling news to their true masters.

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	8. Dead without a cause

**Chapter 7**

Shivering in the frigid cold that quickly descended on the jungle as the sun departed, Buffy stripped the last of the berries from a conveniently placed bush and made to return to the cave where she had set up her shelter. The day had been quite fruitful and in addition to the various berries, leaves and fruits she had gathered, Buffy had also brought down a fat deer which was now cooking over her fire. Remembering how she had come across the cave in the first place Buffy smiled fondly. She had been stumbling about in the forest, so thoroughly tired that she was tripping over her own feet when she had come across the cave. Exhausted after traveling without rest for a large majority of the days hours, not counting the days she had spent trying to get as faraway as possible, she had drawn near the entrance of the cave to discover it had a prior occupant. The leopard had been a cunning and tenacious foe but in the end she had won with a stab of her dagger to the big cat's heart. Buffy's own clothes, ripped, stained with blood and what she assumed were little pieces of intestine, were well beyond repair and she immediately began the process of skinning the great cat. After the hide had finally been cured, the hours of dedicated sewing commenced and eventually yielded fruit in the form of a simple dress of golden leopard fur. Delighted with her work and content with the range of movement it allowed her, Buffy remained totally unaware of how revealing the garment truly was. Only just a few inches past the top of her tawny thighs and hugging her every curve, the dress left nothing to the imagination and it would have been immediately apparent to anyone watching that she wore nothing beneath it. Not much later, she would have more than the one dress to protect her from the cold. As she hunted she acquired more and more furs, sometimes it seemed one for every species in the jungle until she had a thick pile of furs and blankets protecting her from the hard cave floor. Since her villages unfortunate demise Buffy had discovered in herself a masterful predator and was bringing home new furs for her collection almost daily. Never lacking for food even after she had run out of the supplies she'd gathered from the village and finding sources of clean drinking water along the way, Buffy had found she had an aptitude for survival. It was unknown to her that she was finally living up to her nickname.

Coming back to herself as she approached her new home Buffy stopped, uncertain as to why she did so and hesitantly began searching for any unseen threats. Something was off. Still seeing nothing but wanting to be cautious, Buffy silently drew her dagger. Hair standing up on the back of her neck she crept into the once familiar shelter. With as much warning as she'd had Buffy was unsurprised to see someone waiting for her. Facing her cross-legged next to the fire on the opposite side of the cave, it seemed he had been waiting awhile for her return. Smothered by his presence even in such a relaxed state Buffy struggled not to flee into the brush knowing instinctively that like her, the man was a predator. She would not be his prey and survive the experience. Forcing tenseness from her muscles until her body language suggested she was at ease, Buffy's mind was screaming at her to bolt for the trees as she lowered herself into a cross legged stance similar to that of her visitor. Removing the gutted deer from over the fire, Buffy cut large chunks of meat from the dead animal into 2 similarly sized large clay bowls, the meat rare and bloody as she preferred it. Handing the larger portion over the fire to her guest they ate in silence, each pausing only to study the other. Finally after seconds had been served and the bowls were empty, Buffy took the primitive dinnerware from the stranger, wiping the bowls clean with a small amount of the rainwater she'd gathered earlier in the week and some cleansing leaves she kept just for this purpose. Soon the bowls were once again spotless and returned to their crevice which along with the tableware contained a few other supplies she liked to keep close at hand. Buffy once again sat on the other side of the fire across from the stranger. Staring at each other in silence Buffy realized that it was up to her to start the conversation. "Hello" she greeted him in a soft voice that nevertheless showed an underlying strength. Amused when the man twitches almost imperceptibly in surprise Buffy smiles slightly, unaware of the man's immediate focus on her lips. "Good evening" the man replies.

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	9. Apple of the Earth

**Chapter 7.5 Calhoun's POV**

She was utterly delectable. Ripe. Calhoun smelled it long before she had ever come remotely near to the entrance of the cave. In fact, her scent had been deeply laced all throughout the surrounding area, a heady drug he had followed to this secluded place. He had been furious only a short while before, furious and worried. The child of the prophecy alive, despite the evidence that had suggested otherwise. Nursed and raised, right in the middle of his territory without his knowledge. The only thing the prophecy hadn't mentioned about her was the heady lust she would inspire to run thickly through his veins, that and her terrible, wild beauty. It was something he'd never felt before for any woman. She enters the cave now. Unsurprised to see him, he is confused to see her going about her day as if he were not there and then shocked when she shares a meal with him from her surely hard won supplies. Without a word she sits across from him with only a small fire between them to protect her from his potentially lethal intentions. He recognizes the misshapen steak, still rare and bloody from the kill, as deer. It's just the way he likes it and if she's cooked it like this, he realizes, then she also must be a predator. Like he is. Finally they finish and she cleans and washes the dishes without sparing him a thought. At this point he is beginning to get angry but he knows it is better to wait. Often the hunts that are most trying are also the most fruitful. He knows this from experience. She again sits across from him and starting to think her a mute Calhoun is astonished when she finally speaks. "Hello" her voice is soft and husky and she greets him comfortably, almost as if they were good friends and she had been expecting him. Perhaps she could have. No one has ever known if the Sunchild would be able to see into the future. "Good evening" I reply and when nothing else is said I realize she is expecting me to continue the conversation. "I am lord Calhoun d'Jarvis" I say, introducing myself. At her incomprehension and another long silence I realize she truly is innocent in every way. An innocent slayer. A killer of my kind and a mass murderer in her own way. Naive, sheltered from the world. Somehow they seem so contrary, the thought near impossible to first I had thought her bold or uncaring the way she spent no reaction on my name or my status. At the very least people are somewhat intimidated by my stature, but she does not flinch, nor does she cringe, she hardly even blinks though I tower above her. This leads me to think that she has no comprehension of status or even, I allow myself to think, modesty. She seems to have little, or more likely no, idea of how beautiful she is or even of how extensively she is exposing that beauty in her position considering the minuscule garb barely covering her womanhood. Well I think, grinning to myself silently I don't suppose modesty holds much of a place in the jungle. "You may call me Cal." Unsure as to why I have allowed her this concession I let the conversation, if you can call it that, come to a standstill. " I am Buffy." Barely stopping myself from raging in righteous indignity at the thought of someone burdening such a beautiful creature with such a horrid name fit more, I thought, for a purse-dog than an actual living being, I was relieved when she continued on to say " but I am more commonly called Onça" I can see why. With her tawny skin and hair, flashing green eyes and the sense of untamed wildness that hung about her like a shroud she personified the great cat. Feral, lithe and untameable yet incomparably alluring in its unattainability. Hearing footsteps around the entrance I tense. I had not expected word to get out so quickly, expected at least to have the time to ease her into the idea of a whole new life away from this jungle. A life I hadn't realized until now that I wanted to be a part of. I can smell vampires lurking outside the front entrance of the cave, at least two. Thankfully she's settled or else they would have already been in here fighting me for possession of her. One stroke of luck at least but if the vampires are here this soon than the magic practitioners cannot be far behind and they are under no such restrictions. Standing abruptly I reach out to grab her before our escape becomes complicated, and to my amazement come up empty handed. She is a few feet away now, even closer to the mouth of the cave than she was before and while I have no doubt she knows the vampires are there, her proximity is agitating them. These fledglings don't know what their in for, and a surprised vampire is a dangerous one. Dangerous namely, to her. "I don't have time to explain things to you right at this moment, but we are going to my home where you will be safe" I say with a level of command most of my subjects can't even conceive of disobeying. Reassured that she means to heed my orders when she begins to seek out her things, which consist mainly of an arrangement of various long and short range weapons, I lean against the hard stone wall content to watch her gather the mementoes of her former life. Turning away from me and hoisting the pack on her shoulders it is too late when I finally realize what she means to do. I lunge for her, desperate to get us both out of here before it becomes impossible to fight through the crowd of Demons, Weres, vampires and every other manner of creature that already are circling her home like vultures. She dodges my grasp and is out of the cave before I can warn her back. She disappears into the confines of the thick foliage, vampires already hot on her trail as I follow, a single lock of golden hair twisted in my hold.

AN: **REVIEW GODAMMIT!** If you're going to read my story at least tell me what you think!

Also I am now available as a beta reader


	10. Maybes and perhaps

I am enjoying the story so far, are you?

Please send votes on what characters you think should show up.

Ex. The Initiative, Angel, The Immortal, oz, Drusilla etc.

And review I honestly want your opinion.

Also its come to my attention that people think this is a Buffy Dracula romance. No. it is not.

Buffy has a prophecy that says whoever owns her will gain great power. Everyone will be gunning for her at one time or another and while I haven't decided on any pairings spuffy seems likely. But put in your votes I haven't made any decisions!

Also what do you think of Darla and Drusilla teaming up to compete against Angelus for Buffy?

Opinions!


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